


Bump in the Night (I'm Gonna Scare the Hell Out of You)

by Pants (Smarty_Pants)



Series: Pumpkinstory [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Chocolate truffles, Halloween, M/M, Saturday Night Live - Freeform, rose apothecary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 09:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21224012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smarty_Pants/pseuds/Pants
Summary: "Do things jump out at you on this ride?""Yeah, babe, it's the scariest ride of Fright Nights."





	Bump in the Night (I'm Gonna Scare the Hell Out of You)

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a quick little ficlet this afternoon and grew to over 2K words and me staying up until the middle of the night to finish . . . WHY am I like this? 
> 
> The people who this is for know it's for them and why. And of course all my adoration is forever for Daniel Levy.

_“Welcome to 100 Floors of Frights . . . enter at your own risk. . .” _

“Hmmm,” said David, eyeing Patrick uncertainly. Patrick had opened his laptop on the counter and pulled up YouTube—insisting that David put down the cinnamon spice candles that had just arrived and needed to be lined up correctly on the display shelf—just to watch some silly Saturday Night Live sketch from a few years ago. Patrick swore it was the funniest video he had ever seen. He played the first bit and then hit pause when he saw David’s initial face journey.

“Come on, David, just watch it for me,” pleaded Patrick. “This is so hilarious. And then I have a special surprise for you. But you have to watch first.”

Patrick offered David his pick from a box of artisan chocolate truffles. Ooh, a surprise sounded good, thought David. Patrick always gave such thoughtful presents; he could certainly indulge him by watching some silly Halloween video. David twisted the golden rings on his fingers gently and smiled at this man he loved so completely. David popped a chocolate in his mouth and then took a second one for good measure. He nodded at Patrick to restart the video.

_“Good evening, I’m your elevator operator, Mark. Now please hold on as this ride goes bump in the night.”_

David kept his face slack, lips slightly pursed, enjoying the buttery chocolate melting on his tongue. It was heavenly. He was thinking that when he had the next candy, he’d let Patrick taste it in his mouth with his kiss. He imagined Patrick’s searching tongue probing and finding all the edges of the sweetness on his lips, the insides of his cheeks, his own tongue . . . David grabbing onto Patrick’s hips, pulling him in and slotting him between his legs as they moved against each other, sweet chocolate on their tongues, cocks growing harder pressed together. David felt a twitch in his tight jeans. He was letting his mind get lost in the scene and he could almost taste it.

But Patrick— Patrick was all about watching this video right now. And honestly this video looked pretty dumb.

_“Oooh, don’t make fun of me if I scream.” “It’s a hundred floors of frights, babe, I’ll probably be screaming, too,” _said the SNL actors. Patrick giggled to himself and glanced at David.

_“And now hold on for dear death!” _said the elevator operator. Patrick giggled even louder, glanced at David again.

In the video, a few typical horror-trope monsters showed up at the first several floors of the high-rise building. The sketch continued, elevator traveling floor to floor, without anything particularly special happening, and then— there he was.

“_How’s it hanging? I’m David Pumpkins and I’m gonna scare the hell out of you!” _

As soon as Tom Hanks appeared in a black suit covered with orange pumpkins, his hair extra curly and black with a distinct white streak, Patrick started laughing loudly, snorting and guffawing.

Is that a thing? Can you actually hear someone guffaw? David Rose was listening to his Patrick guffaw. It was not a noise he enjoyed.

Patrick kept looking to check whether David was tickled by the absurdity of the video and saw that David—_his David, not David Pumpkins_—was not laughing. In fact, he had that same lost look that he sometimes got when he felt like the rest of the world was speaking a foreign language just to mess with him.

Patrick had clearly watched this many times and between shrieks of laughter, he repeated the lines after the actors. _“Just trying . . . to wrap my head around . . . David Pumpkins . . .I mean . . . are we supposed to know who . . . that is?”_ he said, laughing harder and harder so that he could barely get the words out.

_“But . . . David Pumpkins? Is he . . . from something?” _He repeated the words after the actors. Again. David did everything humanly possible to not roll his eyes. But, it was impossible. David rolled his eyes.

_“I’m David Pumpkins, man!”_ Patrick was howling, laughing so hard he was clutching his stomach. And for whatever reason he would not stop repeating these very stupid lines. David’s two chocolates were gone and he was definitely hitting a saturation level with this thing.

_“And David Pumpkins is. . .?” “His own thang!”_

_“And the skeletons are . . ?” “Part of it!”_

_“WHYYY are you a part of this ride?” _

_“TO—DO—THIS!”_

Patrick began to gyrate his hips and move his arms and shoulders in an approximation of the unique silly movements of the beat box skeletons who were dancing on the video.

_“What’s my name?”_ Patrick shouted at his fiancé, who was now just staring at him as though he was potentially crazy and definitely irritating. Patrick continued to laugh hysterically—literally there were tears streaming down his face—throughout the rest of the video until the jumpscare at the end when he grabbed David by the shoulders and screamed in his face.

Okay, David had had enough already. More than enough of this. He hit the pause button on the screen.

“Patrick,” David said. “Seriously, why? And also what the actual fuck? And again why?”

“David S. Pumpkins!” said Patrick, triumphantly.

“Patrick. Seriously. I cannot get that five minutes of my life back,” David pouted.

“Oh, babe. I forgot the best part.” Babe? David thought. Incorrect. They’d talk about that later.

Patrick pulled a large box out from a shopping bag under the counter. It was the size of a large sweater. . . or a jacket and pants. . . “For Twyla’s costume party on Thursday.”

_No_, thought David. _No no no no way. _But he really did love Patrick, even when he was being immature and ridiculous. So he smiled at him and said, “Ummm—mmm. Oh. Look. At. That.” David pulled the lid of the box open just a bit to reveal the very costume he had feared: the black and orange pumpkin suit of one David S. Pumpkins. He closed the box.

“This is your idea of a costume for me?” he said, trying for a gentle tone but knowing it came out sharply anyway.

“David, it’s _FUNNY!”_

“But, see. It’s not really,” David huffed.

“Here— Look at mine,” Patrick said gleefully revealing the skintight black costume of the beatbox skeleton. He pulled the white flowy wig on his head and began to do the silly dance. “We’ll match,” he said, laughing again.

“Oh no, Patrick. _We_ will not.” David shoved the black leotard and wig back in the same bag as the pumpkin suit and pushed them both away from him with the toe of his high-top. “I don’t do cheap polyester suits and I definitely don’t look like _that_.”

Patrick's face fell. Then his mouth grew tighter.

“Jesus, David. Lighten up, will you?” he growled.

And thus began their first Halloween fight. Patrick accused David of having no sense of humor, no sense of fun. David got defensive and accused Patrick of having no taste. By the end, they weren’t speaking much more than one-syllable noncommittal responses. The chill continued throughout their separately eaten lunches and into the afternoon.

Patrick went to do vendor pickups with only about five words to David, who was left in the store to finish off the rest of the chocolates and wonder how this day had gone so off the rails. He knew he should probably apologize to Patrick when he got back. He’d overreacted and Patrick was just trying to be cute and funny. And _he_ _was_ cute and funny.

But Fucking David S. Pumpkins. David still didn’t get it. How could his smart, adorable, clever Patrick enjoy this inanity so much? Well, David supposed, there was really just one way to find out. He flipped open the laptop and cued up the video again. He watched. Hmm. Still no. He resented this stupid character for (a) being this stupid and (b) causing a fight between Patrick and him when they should really be testing out those chocolate truffle kisses, preferably tonight, naked.

This was for Patrick though, so David wasn’t going to give up. He pressed play again. And this time—he chuckled. Just once. But yeah—this whole thing was absurd. So absurd that maybe. . . maybe it was a little funny. David watched again. Again. Around the fifth or sixth viewing, David was smiling and snickering at the skeletons dancing. _“Ayyy, Papi!”_ he repeated after them. By the tenth viewing, he was cackling to himself, his chest shaking as he tried to contain his laughter.

_“Whyyy . . . did you go ALL IN on David Pumpkins?!”_

David gazed out the front window of the store, wondering when Patrick would be back. He missed him desperately all of sudden. David hated fighting, most especially over such nothingness. He thought about how Patrick had been trying to do something nice—share a funny video, get him a costume for the party—and how David had not appreciated him. He peeked in the box again. Looking more closely, he noticed that the pumpkin suit was actually of decent quality as far as novelty clothing went. It was not Prada, but it wouldn’t be the worst either. For one night.

Patrick. This sweet generous man wanted to bring David a little fun and laughter and he was the only one standing in the way of that. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky to have Patrick in his life . . . for the rest of his life . . . _for as long as they both shall live_.

Even more miraculous was that David had learned to accept Patrick’s love, to take it in and—okay, most of the time at least—to keep his feelings of insecurity and unworthiness at bay. The men both knew they were their best selves when they were together—didn’t they? But where was Patrick? Was he actually angry that David had been such a dick? David felt so alone. He ate another chocolate and watched the video again. He longed to see his beautiful partner walk in the door.

Outside, it was one of those sharp-focused fall days where the sun was shining brightly and the brisk wind bit at any skin not wrapped up in a coat or scarf or gloves. Red and gold leaves let go of the trees to litter the street and sidewalk and grass, creating a patchwork quilt of color on the ground surrounding the Rose Apothecary. Patrick always looked so good at this time of year, thought David, all freshness and pink cheeks when he came in from the outdoors. As the days grew shorter and colder, Patrick had switched from his thin button-down oxford shirts to plaid flannels and puffy vests, always looking as though he had just finished up apple picking or chopping wood. Patrick was wholesome as fuck, thought David once again. God, he loved this man.

David knew what he needed to do.

It was about a half an hour later when Patrick returned to the store. He too was feeling bad about the pointless fight, ready to apologize for torturing David with a stupid video, for insisting that he enjoy this dumb little Halloween sketch.

“David,” Patrick called. “David, I’m sorry.” He didn’t see or hear him in the store, but he knew David would never leave their place unattended. He figured David must be in back, so he headed into their private space.

When Patrick entered the back room, he was enveloped by a tall dark, sexy man in a pumpkin suit. David wrapped his arms around Patrick’s waist and pulled his forehead against his fiancé’s.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he breathed into Patrick’s mouth.

“Hey, I love you,” Patrick breathed back into him. “And _I’m_ sorry.”

“Babe, it was funny. Babe, I was wrong,” said David. He reached his hand up to cradle Patrick’s face and jaw gently, kissing his lips and opening his mouth lightly. His tongue offered the chocolate prize that he’d been saving for Patrick.

Patrick smiled at the unexpected taste. David couldn’t stop murmuring into Patrick’s mouth as he nuzzled him and rubbed his stubble gently against Patrick’s check.

_“Any questions?”_ he asked. They both laughed out loud.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't seen [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rS00xWnqwvI), where have you even been?
> 
> Happy Halloween!


End file.
